Chapter Text
Derek stood over Jackson’s body, panting. Peter stood beside him, both of them waiting for the shift to finish.
For Jackson to become a full werewolf.
“Is he… is he dead?” Lydia whispered. Derek finally looked up at her, finally looked around the room. Lydia stood closest, still holding the key that she’d used to get Jackson to pause his attack on them, to turn part way back human enough for them to finish the process. Scott and Isaac stood a few feet behind her, both of them clearly not knowing what to do. Derek didn’t blame them, it was a weird situation.
“No,” Peter answered, his head tilting. “He’s changing, but he should wake up soon as a full werewolf. He’ll be healthy, and hopefully he won’t have any kanima left in him because I don’t much feel like having that fight again.”
Derek snorted and shook his head. Peter, back from the dead, as snarky as ever.
“How did you know to come here?” Derek asked Lydia. She looked at him like he was an idiot.
“I heard you all talking about Jackson in the boys locker room,” she said, crossing her arms. “So I’ve been following Scott.”
“I hope I don’t have to tell you not to tell anyone about this,” Derek said.
Lydia raised a brow, before pointedly glaring at Peter. “I’ve been called insane enough recently, thanks.”
Peter winced, “right, and can I just take this time to apologize for putting you through… that?”
Lydia rolled her eyes.
All the wolves tensed when they heard a car pull up outside of the warehouse.
“Shit,” Derek looked down at Jackson, “do you think we can move him?”
“Did I not just say we need to do whatever we can to prevent anymore kanima bullshit?” Peter said.
Derek sighed, “Peter, he’s not a kanima anymore, we can’t leave him here if-”
“It’s Chris,” Scott said, both he and Isaac looking towards the main entrance.
“And Erica and Boyd!” Isaac said, before heading towards the betas. Derek moved forward as well, without thinking, but forced himself to stop after a few steps. His betas had left him, they didn’t want Derek as their Alpha.
He could give them space. That’s what they wanted.
Which is why he was so surprised when a moment later, both of the betas broke into a run and only stopped when they were beside him, hunched over and holding hands.
“Um,” Derek looked over at Isaac, but Isaac looked as confused as he did. “Are you two okay?”
Erica shook her head, “no.”
Hesitantly, Derek put a hand on her shoulder, “what’s wrong, was it-” Derek glanced at Chris, who stood at the entrance of the warehouse watching them. “Did the hunters-”
“Chris let us go. Gerard…” Boyd shook his head, “but Chris found us and let us go.”
Derek growled, “did they hurt you?”
They both shrugged. Derek took that to mean yes. He didn’t know what to do, so he squeezed Erica’s shoulder, and gave Boyd a look that he hoped conveyed what he was thinking.
You’re safe now , he wanted to say . I won’t let them hurt you again. But he didn’t know how to say it, because he couldn’t make a promise he wouldn’t be able to keep.
“Can we stay with you?” Erica asked in a whisper.
“Of course,” Derek said. He hadn’t been the one to tell them to leave, they’d made that decision on their own… but maybe, but maybe now…
“If that’s enough time for the wolves to calm down, we need to talk,” Chris cut in, finally stepping into the room.
Peter stepped forward, crossing his arms and putting himself between Chris and the betas. The hunter and the injured pack mates. The move made something settle in Derek’s chest, it was something that his uncle would have done before the fire. Something he hadn’t seen him do in a long time.
Derek could only hope that this new resurrected version of Peter was better than the last.
“What do you want?” Derek asked, also moving himself in front of Erica and Boyd. Isaac had moved over enough that he was flanking their side, encasing Boyd and Erica in a protective circle. Scott hadn’t moved. He stood closest to Chris, his eyebrows furrowed.
Lydia crouched over Jackson, who still lay motionless on the floor behind them.
“I went down to my basement tonight, because my lights kept flickering. I thought something was wrong with my electrical box, so you can imagine my surprise when I found these two strung up to my basement ceiling, electric cables holding them in place.”
Derek growled, and Chris held up his hands. Derek noticed for the first time that he was holding a piece of paper.
“I let them go, but Boyd had this stapled to his chest. It’s addressed to Scott-”
“Me?” Scott frowned, “why me?”
“Why indeed,” Peter mused, “and why are you telling us about it?”
“Because Erica thought Derek would want to know.” Chris said.
Derek glanced behind him, and Erica nodded. Okay, he didn’t know what this was about, but he was willing to hear Chris out if Erica wanted him to.
“Read it.”
Chris nodded, and held up the letter: “You really think I wouldn’t notice, Scott? I always knew I couldn’t trust a wolf. Maybe this will make you learn some respect for your elders, and teach you not to doubt the ability of a hunter....”
Chris trailed off, and Derek looked between Chris and Scott. Scott’s face was pinched, Chris looked upset.
Derek had no idea what the fuck was going on, “is that it?”
“No,” Chris cleared his throat: “You won’t be able to find him, but I might be generous enough to leave the body for you in your precious preserve. It’s a shame, since the boy would have made a good soldier for the right cause. He should have known better than to run with wolves.”
Derek’s eyes widened, and his first instinct was to look towards Scott, but he already knew what he was searching for wouldn’t be there. Hadn’t been there this whole time.
Stiles was missing.
Derek growled and turned to Scott, “what did you do?”
Scott, pale and wide eyed, looked between Derek and Chris, who were both looking at him for answers. “I- Deaton said he wouldn’t notice!”
Chris sighed, “wouldn’t notice what ?”
Derek growled in agreement.
“Deaton gave me pills, full of mountain ash, to replace Gerard’s cancer pills. That way after Derek bit him, Gerard would die.”
Chris crossed his arms, “you didn’t think a cancer patient, or the doctor he checks in with regularly, would notice that he wasn’t taking his pills?”
It was a good point, but not the thing Derek was focusing on.
“What do you mean ‘after I bit him’?” Derek asked in disgust.
“Well, Gerard was planning on asking you for the bite,” Scott said, like it was obvious.
Derek growled, “I would never give Gerard the bite, I’m not an idiot.”
Scott shifted, and Peter hummed next to him. “I see, you were planning on forcing Derek to bite him if he didn’t agree willingly.”
“What?” Derek turned back to Scott, feeling hurt, but mostly feeling like a fool. He had thought he could trust Scott and Stiles, he had thought that after everything, they would at least be allies .
He’d thought wrong. They were no better than the Argents.
“Look, Deaton said this was the easiest way and I guess I didn’t really think about how you would feel about it…” Scott shifted awkwardly, but gestured back to Chris, “he was threatening my mom, and now he’s taken Stiles! What else was I supposed to do?”
“Literally anything else, Scott,” Lydia said from her place on the floor.
Scott’s face twisted, but Derek didn’t care anymore. He was over his teenage melodrama. “If this was the plan that you and Stiles made with Deaton, you can fix it yourself. I’m done with you.”
“Actually,” Erica grabbed his arm, holding him there, “from what Gerard said, it didn’t sound like Stiles was part of it. He’s only doing this to Stiles to punish Scott.”
“We wouldn’t be alive if Gerard hadn’t gone off after him,” Boyd added, “it’s like he forgot about us the moment he started targeting him.”
“Stiles would have come up with a better plan than that,” Lydia chimed in behind them.
Great. So not only had Stiles been taken, he didn’t even know why. Scott hadn’t thought to share his idiotic plan with the one who actually had braincells.
This was a fucking mess.
“How long has it been?” Derek asked Chris.
Scott, to his surprise, was the one who answered, “Stiles went missing after the game. Around 8:30.”
Derek growled, “are you serious? Why are you even here, if your pack member went missing hours ago?”
“What? You’re the one who asked for my help! You didn’t care he was missing either!”
Derek rolled his eyes, “I didn’t fucking know , Scott, you didn’t tell me!”
“Well, you were here! Even though Erica and Boyd had been taken too!”
“They hadn’t gone missing, I knew they had chosen to leave! I would have gone after them if they’d just disappeared!”
Erica squeezed his arm gently at that, and Derek turned to her, ignoring Scott’s continued stammering in the background. “You want to go after Stiles, don’t you?”
“I feel like we owe him that,” Erica said.
Derek turned to Boyd, who simply shrugged. Derek took that to mean yes. Isaac hesitated, when Derek turned to him, so Derek didn’t wait for his answer. Isaac could make his own decisions.
“Do you mind staying with Jackson?” He asked Peter, “get him back to the den when he’s stable?”
Peter huffed, “if by the den you mean that lovely empty loft you have? Then yes, I’m sure I’ll manage. Though do let me know if you need help finding him, Stiles was always a favorite of mine.”
That… sounded weird. Derek didn’t want to deal with that for now. He turned away from them all and walked out of the warehouse.
He had a dumbass kid to find.
“Derek, where are you going?” Scott followed him out, along with the rest of the betas. Erica and Boyd instantly climbed into Derek’s Camaro without another word.
Derek was forced to stop when Scott stepped in his way. “You can’t just leave, Stiles needs help!”
“The last place Gerard was seen was at the Argent house, and then the lacrosse field at the school. I’m going to see if we can find a scent, a starting point. Why, what’s your plan?”
“Um-” Scott looked confused, which was a normal look for him, actually, but Derek didn’t have time for this. He shoved Scott out of the way, and climbed into his car.
“Do whatever you want, Scott. I’m going to save Stiles.”
And with that, he started his car and pulled away.
--
Derek went to the school field first. It was the last place Stiles had been seen, and if there was going to be a scent trail to follow it would be there…
But there was nothing. Nothing but the smell of sweaty teenage boys, and the panicked tang of the audience who had thought they watched Jackson die.
It was useless. He could only hope Argent’s house had more.
The three of them climbed back into the car, and Derek squeezed the steering wheel nervously. The last time he’d spoken to Erica and Boyd, they had… not been happy. They’d accused him of lying to them, which… was possibly something he had done. He didn’t really know. He’d been so desperate to build a pack. A wall of protection. A… new family. He hadn’t thought of how they would feel, being thrown into the middle of a Supernatural war.
He’d thought they would be happier. He’d thought they would like it better than the pain the human world had given them.
Clearly, he’d thought wrong.
He cleared his throat, “are you two okay?”
“We’re fine,” Erica said beside him, “all healed up.”
Derek nodded, “if you had to heal, you must be hungry.”
Derek watched Boyd shrug in the rearview mirror. Erica didn’t say anything.
“I - ” Derek glared at the road ahead. “I’m sorry for how things ended. Between us.”
Jesus Christ, that sounded like some sort of teenage break up. He was so fucking bad at this.
It got their attention though. He could feel their eyes on him, but Derek couldn’t make himself turn to look.
“We’re sorry for leaving,” Erica said, a few tense minutes later. “I thought it was for the best but when we were hanging in that basement… all I wanted was to be with my pack again. With my Alpha.”
“No matter how shitty of an Alpha he may be,” Boyd said from the back.
Derek let out a breath.
He was really fucking bad at this.
“I’m sorry,” he started with, because really, that’s what was important, right? That he was sorry. He was sorry for everything. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t…” he sighed, “I was a shit Alpha. I am a shit Alpha. I honestly have no idea what I’m doing.”
Boyd snorted, and when Derek risked a look, Erica was grinning out the window.
“If you’re willing though… I’d like to figure this out. Together, this time.”
“Together,” Boyd said, like a promise.
“Together,” Erica repeated, “after we find Stiles.”
Derek couldn’t help but smile as he nodded.
He had his pack again.
--
Derek knew as soon as he stepped out of the car that they wouldn’t find a trail here either. No scent, no signs… they were aimless. Standing in the Argent’s driveway trying to think of what to do next.
“Do you think there’s anything inside?” Erica asked.
Derek shook his head, “maybe, but I’m not about to break into a hunters house. We can do this the old fashion way, spread out and check around the town. The preserve. It’s not too big, we could find him by dawn.”
“The note said we won’t be able to find him.” Boyd said.
“Yeah, they’re hunters. They probably have ways to hide their… victims,” Erica winced at the word.
Derek didn’t like it anymore than she did. Stiles wasn’t a victim. Stiles shouldn’t even be involved in this mess.
He turned when he heard the sound of a car parking, and raised his brows when he saw Isaac and Lydia stepping out of Chris Argent’s car with him. Scott pulled up soon after on his bike.
“I’m guessing you didn’t find anything at the school,” Chris said. Derek shook his head.
“Deaton was useless as well,” Lydia said, walking up and stopping beside Derek, like they were a team in this together. Maybe they were. Maybe Stiles would make them allies after all. “He doesn’t even know how to do a locator spell. Who knows magic but doesn’t know how to do a locator spell?” She spoke like she thought he was pathetic. Derek was starting to see why Stiles liked her so much.
“Did you check inside?” Chris asked.
“No. I doubt he left anything to follow.”
Chris nodded, looking grim. “You’re right, if I know my father, he wouldn’t leave anything in my house to find him…”
They all stood in silence, thinking. Derek watched as Isaac inched closer and closer to the betas, until he was shoulder to shoulder with Boyd. His three betas, together again. He didn’t want them to get hurt in this.
He needed to do better. Be better. Stop being an idiot and… and learn from his mistakes.
Derek sighed, he knew what he had to do. Even if his instincts were screaming at him not to do it.
“We need to tell Stiles’ father.”
Everyone looked at him in surprise, but Scott’s quickly shifted to anger.
“No, Stiles doesn’t want his dad to know about this.”
Derek growled, “if I had been honest about what had been going on with Erica and Boyd from the beginning, maybe the police would have found them before Gerard tortured them in a basement, instead of thinking they were some teenage romance runaways!”
Erica scoffed, looking offended, “that’s what everyone thought?”
“No, Derek, you don’t understand. Stiles would rather his dad not know at all, okay? Even if it means he gets hurt, or it might take some time to find him… he wouldn’t want his dad to know!”
“Might take some time?” Derek shook his head, “Scott, we have no scent to follow. No leads. Nothing. Unless Chris has some idea for where Gerard might have taken him?” Derek looked to Chris, who solemnly shook his head. “That’s what I thought. No one here knows Gerard well enough to find him. We don’t have resources. The one person who was actually good at making plans like this is the one who’s been taken! And on top of that, Gerard clearly wants him dead. To teach you a lesson. I’m going to the Sheriff, whether you like it or not, because unlike you, I actually care about my allies. I’m not letting Stiles die for your mistakes.”
Derek moved away, heading for his car, and didn’t flinch when he saw Scott start coming for him.
He did pause when Erica and Boyd stepped in between them though. His brows raised his surprise when Lydia stepped up and joined them.
“He’s right, Scott, the Sheriff deserves to know the truth about his son,” Lydia said. “And speaking from experience, keeping this a secret doesn’t help anyone.”
Scott doesn’t say anything. He shakes his head like they’re the ones making a mistake, and heads to his bike.
Derek ignored him.
“Let’s go,” he said, nodding towards his car. Erica, Boyd and Lydia all moved to follow him in. Lydia didn’t even look for permission to join them, she just crawled into the backseat with Boyd. Derek felt his lips twitch by her audacity.
He was really starting to see why Stiles liked her.
Before he got into the car himself, he turned to Isaac, who was standing awkwardly in the driveway by Chris.
“We’ll either be at Stiles house, or the station, if you want to join… I have my cell on me if you need anything.”
Isaac looked surprised, but Derek waited until he nodded before he got back into the car.
He was trying. He was really going to try this time.
He hoped it would work.
--
Stiles woke up in darkness. Like, really dark darkness. This wasn’t night time this was…
This was a fucking bag over his head.
A bit of flailing, and some definite bruising later, and he knew for sure that there was a bag over his head, handcuffs around his wrists, and he was in a tight place. A small space that felt like he was moving.
Like the trunk of a car. Or the bed of a truck.
He was being fucking kidnapped .
“Okay,” Stiles took a steadying breath. The bag on his head made that move a lot less calming than he wanted it to be, but it would have to do. “Don’t panic. Dad talked about this. Just- stay calm. Stay ready and… make it as hard for them as possible. I can do that. I can definitely do that.”
His hands were tied behind his back, but he still had some wiggle room. He tried to shimmy the bag off his head, but it didn’t budge. It was fucking tied on.
These guys weren’t amateurs. That was a scary thought on top of a scary thought.
No time like the present to ignore that thought.
He shifted around more, hoping there was something here. Anything. A fucking twig, even. He could pick a handcuff with a twig, if it was sharp enough and he had enough time. He’d done it before.
There wasn’t. The space was empty, and all Stiles accomplished was getting himself twisted into an awkward position. He shifted again, straightening himself out, and that’s when he felt it-
A hole in the side of the trunk.
What had Dad used to say? If he gets taken, kick out of the backlights. A cop will pull them over. He’ll be saved.
Stiles sucked in a breath, and kicked the same spot as hard as he could. Then kicked it again, and again, and again. He kicked until he was panting, and then he kicked some more.
The son of a bitch didn’t even budge.
“Fucking hell, what is this thing made out of?” Stiles dropped his head back, wincing when the movement stung.
He couldn’t do anything right now. He wouldn’t be able to fight his kidnappers later if he’d tired himself out fighting a car.
Stiles licked his lips, nervous, but closed his eyes against the darkness. It didn’t make him feel better.
He had been at the game. His dad had been watching. Everyone- everyone would know he was missing. And if they knew where and when, they would be able to find him.
And he had werewolves on his side. Scott would definitely find him. If his dad didn’t first.
Yeah. Stiles took another calming breath, or, as much as he could with a bag over his head.
They would find him. It would be fine.
--
Derek started at the station, but the Sheriff wasn’t there.
“He’s probably not allowed on the case,” Lydia said, leaning forward from the back, “he’s too close. If he’s anything like Stiles though, he’s working on it from home.”
So to the Stilinski house they went.
Derek pulled up in front of the house, for the first time not trying to hide his arrival. He could hear the Sheriff’s heartbeat from here, and nodded at the others to get out. Walking up the driveway, Derek clenched his fists when he realized the Sheriff’s heartbeat was coming from upstairs. Derek was the only one with hearing good enough to know what the man was doing up there.
Sheriff Stilinski was crying in his son’s room. Because his kid, his only family left, was missing and no one knew why.
Derek didn’t pause as he stepped up to the front door and knocked. He listened as the Sheriff dropped something, and his hurried steps moved from the second floor to down the stairs.
Derek almost wished Stiles were here, only to see his face at the sight of Derek, knocking on his door to talk to his father, the man who had arrested him not long ago.
But he had to do this. For Stiles sake.
“Derek?” The Sheriff asked, and then looked even more confused when he saw the three people behind him, his eyebrows scrunching up at the sight of Lydia in particular. “What are you all…”
“We need to talk, Sheriff,” Derek said, “it’s about Stiles.”
--
Stiles tried to stay calm. He tried to keep his breath even, and his mind focused, but… the longer the drive was, the more his panic grew.
They weren’t in fucking Kansas anymore, that was for sure.
He doubted they had been driving in circles this whole time, so that meant they were getting farther and farther away from Beacon Hills… where no one would think to look for him.
Where no one would even know how to look for him.
Fucking hell, he didn’t even know how had taken him. How was his dad supposed to know? Stiles shook that thought away. Maybe this was for the best. Maybe this way, only the werewolves would be involved, and his dad would stay safe at home.
Even if Stiles really… really selfishly wanted his dad here with him right now.
Stiles sucked in a breath when the car finally pulled to a stop. A stop longer than a red light, and a stop for sure when car doors started to open and close.
He clenched his fists, ready to fight, but nothing happened.
“Hey!” Stiles shouted, kicking his feet out again, “hey! Let me out! Let me out of here!”
He kicked, and shouted, but no one came. He heard the car doors shut once more, and they were off again.
Stiles dropped his head with a groan.
Fuck.
--
The Sheriff, unlike his son, took the news that supernatural creatures existed very skeptically, and almost kicked then out of his house for wasting his time until Derek shifted right there in front of him.
Then the sheriff pointed a gun in his face, until Lydia took over and got the situation back under control.
Now the five of them sat around the table, the Sheriff’s head in his hands.
“And Scott’s one too?” He asked, for the third time.
“Yes,” Lydia said, for the third time.
Derek shifted in his seat, they didn’t really have the time for this right now.
Luckily, the sheriff seemed to agree.
“And this man, this ‘hunter’, he took my son? To get revenge on Scott, for- for trying to kill him?” Sheriff Stilinski lifted his head out of his hands, his brow furrowed, “Scott planned that? Alone?
Sheriff Stilinski sounded doubtful, and Derek appreciated that.
“He said Deaton helped him make the plan, and not to tell anyone about I guess, because even Stiles didn’t know,” Erica said.
The Sheriff rubbed his forehead, “Deaton the vet? What does he-? You know what, now's not the time.” He stood up and made his way to the front door.
“Where are you going?” Lydia asked, standing up as well. They all followed her lead, and followed the Sheriff out of the house as he spoke.
“As far as I’m concerned, this was an anonymous tip that someone saw a deranged man shove my son into a car.” Sheriff Stilinski said, making his way to the police cruiser sitting in the driveway. “I’m not sure if they’ll believe me if I tell them it was the principal of the high school, but this at least gives me more to work with. I can investigate Gerard Argent while everyone else is searching for the car. I’m too close to this anyway, they wouldn’t want me out in the field right now. Do you know what kind of car he drives? Just to speed this up?” He turned to Derek, who floundered.
“Uh-”
“We can find out,” Lydia cut in smoothly. Derek nodded.
They could find out. It was a start.
--
Stiles didn’t know how long it had been. He was disoriented, and was only now realizing that if he had been unconscious from a blow to his head, he probably also had a concussion.
Not a good sign.
He tried to remember what his dad had taught him. To yell and scream when he could, to not make it easy on his kidnappers. He was a cops kid, he knew what to do.
But yelling hadn’t worked. And they could be miles away by now, in the middle of nowhere.
His dad hadn’t told him what to do, if the yelling didn’t work.
The car finally pulled to a stop, and the car doors opened again. A door opened near him this time, and Stiles felt cool air hit the skin of his wrists.
He sucked in a breath, and hoped the yelling worked this time.
--
Derek stopped at a McDonalds on the way to the Argent house. His betas had only just been saved, and needed fuel if they were going to keep helping. And Lydia, to the best of his knowledge, had been following Scott, and then following them, the whole night.
They all needed the food.
When the four of them finally made it to the Argent house, Derek was feeling better than he had the last time they were here, despite the fact that they were no closer to finding Stiles. He had hope now that the Sheriff was part of this.
They would find him.
Chris Argent, on the other hand, looked like shit when he opened the door.
“I wasn’t part of this,” he said, already moving to close the door. Derek shot a hand out to stop him.
“Doesn’t mean you don’t know anything,” Lydia said.
Chris sighed, he motioned them inside.
Erica and Boyd looked around suspiciously before they walked through the door.
“I wasn’t part of that either…” Chris said, his face worn, “I wouldn’t kidnap children, no matter their species.”
“Sorry if we don't believe you,” Erica said. Boyd glared.
Chris looked away, “I’m sorry for what my family did to you, but I can promise, I had no part in it. Gerard had more control over Beacon Hills… over my home, than I thought he did. I don’t even know where Allison is right now.”
Derek put a hand on Erica’s shoulder, trying to support her while also trying to tell her they needed to be here. They needed Chris’s insight if they wanted to figure out where Stiles was.
“Do you know what kind of car Gerard would have been driving?” He asked.
“Look, you all need to understand, my father doesn’t trust me with this type of thing. I don’t know-”
“Then get everything you do know,” Lydia snapped, “and meet us back here to go over it. We don’t have time for this pity party, Argent, we have a boy to find.”
Chris looked at her, obviously surprised, but Derek growled. “I would listen to her, if I were you.”
“Right, okay, I’ll um- look in the basement. You can come with me, if you want.”
Erica and Boyd stiffened, but Derek reassured them they could stay up here.
Derek and Lydia followed Chris down the stairs into the basement. Derek’s chest clenched when the scent of fear and pain grew with each step down. His betas had been down here, and he hadn’t even known. Hadn’t even tried to save them.
Now Stiles was probably in the same situation and Derek couldn’t even find him.
He was failing as an Alpha, but he was going to try harder. Do better.
He had to - if they wanted Stiles to survive this.
--
Screaming and kicking did not work, it turned out. All it got him was another hit to the head - something Stiles was going to try to avoid from now on, because now he was dizzy and his mouth tasted like blood.
By the time he was able to focus again, he was already being tied to a chair.
Thanks for all the great advice, Pops. It did nothing.
The bag was finally pulled off, and Stiles blinked sluggishly in the light. Men dressed in all black surrounded him.
Gerard stood at the far side, his face twisted in a smile. Allison stood beside him, her face pale and shocked.
Hunters. They were apparently going after humans now.
Great.
--
Lydia managed to pull a few things out of the basement that might help them. Derek stood beside her as she looked through the pages Gerard hard left in his desk, glaring around the room his betas had been tortured in.
Chris took stock of everything that was missing.
“A lot of guns and wolfsbane, which isn’t surprising.” Chris said, writing the list down for them. “Some rope. A sedative that we usually use on injured men, but,” he winced, “could also be used to make someone docile…”
“So Gerard is probably drugging Stiles as well,” Lydia said, her arms full of papers, and her face full of disgust.
No one said anything, and Derek shook his head, “are you ready to leave?” he asked Lydia. She nodded, and Derek waited until she was safely on the stairs before he followed her.
They didn’t need to stay in the hunters den any longer than necessary.
--
“Grandpa, you told me you were getting Derek,” Allison whispered. She sounded horrified, and Stiles wanted to laugh.
“Wow, Allison, I knew you were off the deep end but I didn’t know you’d-”
Someone taped his mouth shut. Stiles glared at him, and then turned his glare forward.
Allison glared back, “Derek killed my mother.”
Stiles gestured to himself, as much as he could with his hands taped to the chair. Despite that, he thought he made a pretty good point. Allison’s lack of response made him think she agreed.
“Stiles is just here to lure Derek in,” Gerard said, placing a hand on Allison’s shoulder, “wolves are so easy to manipulate, he’ll come for the bitch.”
Stiles grunted, offended, but Allison just nodded, like that made perfect sense. Which, you know, rude .
“You should go outside, Allison, patrol the woods with the others.” Gerard said, “Derek will show up soon enough, and I know you want to be the one to finish the job. If you want the glory, you need to be out in the action. Not in here, waiting with the bait.”
Allison took all of 5 seconds to think about that, before she nodded and moved to leave. Stiles, panicking, yelled after her. He didn’t want to be left alone with her crazy Grandfather, even if she was off the deep end.
She sighed, turning back briefly,“you’ll be fine. You’re just here as bait, nothing’s going to happen to you.”
Yeah, right . He tried to shout again, but Allison was already walking out the door.
He didn’t know why he thought she would do anything different.
As soon as the door shut behind her, Gerard stepped closer. He grabbed Stiles’ face, his bony fingers digging into his cheeks. “You’re exactly who I meant to take, and you know that, don’t you Stiles? I’ve been told you’re the clever one. If only your friend Scott had listened to you, maybe then you wouldn’t be in this situation. This should teach Scott his lesson though. He will learn not to double-cross a hunter after this. And not to leave the weakest member of his pack unprotected.”
Stiles swallowed. He didn’t like the sound of this. He also had no idea what Gerard was talking about. Scott hadn’t done anything to Gerard.
“Ah, so you really didn’t know. I can see it in your eyes, you have no idea what I’m talking about, well,” Gerard leaned away again, pushing Stiles face to the side as he let go. “Let me tell you all about how Scott was supposed to get me the bite, but instead he decided to mess with my medication.” Gerard pulled out a bottle and shook around its contents. “I noticed pretty quickly so don’t worry, I’m still on the right medication. Scotts mountain ash pills are all ready for you to take.”
Stiles glared at him, wishing he could snap back, but he couldn’t with the tape over his mouth.
Gerard smiled, “Adam.”
A man moved forward, and stabbed into Stiles neck. Stiles flinched away, but the needle had already been emptied into him.
A moment later, a hand grabbed his mouth, ripped the tape off and Gerard dropped a few pills in. They held his mouth and nose closed until he swallowed them.
By the time they finally let go, Stiles had to gasp for breath. Everything feeling dizzy, slanted.
What the fuck had been in that needle.
“Now Stiles, focus on me just a bit longer,” Gerard patted his cheek, Stiles tried to turn away. He grabbed his jaw instead.
“This is what you get for running with wolves. This is what you get for being a human traitor. My men get bored when there’s nothing to hunt, and I’ve told them they can practice their skills on you. That’s all you’re good for now. That dose should keep you quiet, and those pills will keep you human. Even if your little wolves show up, they won’t be able to bite you. You should thank me. You may die here, but at least I’m saving your humanity.
“Fuck you,” Stiles snarled at him. Or tried to. It came out slurred, but he thought the message was clear.
Gerard shoved his face away, and then he was gone. Walking out of the room like Stiles was nothing.
Stiles tried to get himself focused again. Tried to look around the room, which looked… wooden. He tried to-
A man grabbed his hand. He was holding pliers. Stiles squirmed, attempting to pull away but his wrists were tied to the chair.
“Fuck off, man- I keep my body the way I like it, everything is perfectly in its place I don’t want you to mess with-” Stiles didnt even know where he was going with that, but he cut himself off with a shout of pain.
The man smiled, smiled , as he pulled Stiles middle fingernail off slowly. Painfully.
“Shouting already?” The man asked. “This is just the beginning.”
--
After they left the Argent house, Derek decided to drop Boyd and Erica off at home.
It was late, they were both drained from being injured by hunters and strapped to a ceiling for who knows how long. Their parents had been worried about them when they went missing, and Derek…
If Derek was really going to commit to not making the same mistakes, this was one of them. He couldn’t ignore the fast that his betas had had a life before him. They had parents, loved ones. He couldn’t isolate them like he had before.
He wouldn’t make the same mistakes twice.
“You need to rest,” he said to Erica, who wouldn’t get out of the car. Boyd had only taken a bit of prompting, but Erica was refusing to leave. “You need to sleep, and you need to reconnect with your family. They were worried about you.” Derek sighed when Erica only looked slightly swayed by that. “If you want to help tomorrow, you still can, but only after you’ve talked to your parents. I’ll text you if anything happens before then.”
“Text me if you find a location, you’re not saving him without me.”
“Fine.”
That finally got Erica out of the car. Lydia climbed into the front seat as he watched her get pulled into her house by her sobbing mother.
Yeah, he’d made the right decision.
“Do you want to go home?” Derek asked her, pushing his car into drive.
Lydia shook her head, “both my parents are off at work conferences, no one’s waiting for me there. And our house cleaner will have looked after Prada before she went home, so I’m good. Prada's my dog,” she added when she saw Derek’s confused look. “Besides, Stiles… I know he wouldn’t rest, if it were me. So neither will I.”
“It’s not a competition,” Derek tried to say it gently, but it came out gruff, like it always did. Luckily, Lydia didn’t take it that way.
“It’s always a competition between us,” Lydia looked out the window, her face twisted in regret, “a competition for grades. A competition for who can out stubborn who- Stiles, for always trying to get my attention, or me, for always ignoring him. I won that one, he didn’t think I even knew his name before all this.”
“Did you?”
“Of course I did, it was always right under mine for class GPA.”
Derek shook his head. Teenagers.
They pulled into the station parking lot, and Lydia gathered all their pages together. “I’m going to win this one too. Stiles may have spent an entire weekend waiting for me in the hospital, but I’m not going home until he’s found.”
Derek nodded. He felt the same way.
--
Lydia spread everything they found in the basement on the sheriff’s desk. Now that it was all out like this, Derek realized the information she had managed to gather was depressingly small.
“We should probably start with this,” she said, picking one of the pages, “a list of cars Gerard had rented out for him and his men.”
Sheriff Stilinski took it, his eyes roaming down the page, “they all look pretty similar, black SUV’s. A common car, but hopefully it helps. I’ll send out an APB. Thank you, Lydia.” He left the room, the sheet folded and in his pocket. Derek wondered what he was going to say to get that APB.
He supposed it didn’t matter, as long as they found the car Stiles was in.
Lydia looked down at the pages again after the sheriff left the room, “the rest of this I’ll look over again. This was just the stuff I thought looked promising.”
Derek frowned, but looked over the pages with her. She was right… nothing here really helped them narrow it down.
“This one mentions a cabin,” Lydia said, holding a torn piece of paper with messy handwriting on it, “and how it would need supplies if they went there. I’m guessing it’s remote? In a forest, maybe?”
Derek shrugged, “not ours, if it is. The preserve only has the Hale house in it.”
Lydia huffed, “that will be hard to narrow down then, northern California has plenty of forests to hide in… if they even stay in California….”
Derek growled at the thought. They’d lost so much time already, Stiles could be two States over by now. He could be at the border to Mexico.
And if they took him that far…
Derek shook the thought away. It didn’t matter how far they took him, Derek should hunt them down, and kill them himself. No matter how long it took.
--
The sheriff came back an hour later, a stack of DVD’s in his hand. Lydia told him about her theory that Stiles was being kept in a cabin somewhere, and the man nodded grimly at that.
It was all they’d managed to get out of everything from the Argent basement.
The sheriff sat down at his desk, his face tight. He lay the DVD’s out between them.
“These are the recordings from any road facing business near an exit from Beacon Hills,” he lifted them up one by one, “cafe on 8th, gas station near the 99, bike shop near the preserve… you get the idea. I had a few of my deputies start collecting these a while ago. Now that we know the make and model of the car,” the sheriff shrugged, “we don’t have much else to go on right now.”
The sheriff used his computer, Lydia, somehow, pulled an entire laptop out of her bag, and Derek used a station laptop that was old and lagged quite a bit. He could only fast forward at half the speed the two others were, which made him feel kind of useless, but it was something.
They were doing something.
--
It was nearing dawn by the time they found anything. Lydia, her eyes wide, waved them over to her screen. A black SUV getting gas at the place near highway 99. The man wore all black and a baseball cap. He never looked up at the cameras.
Two other men got out of the car, wearing the same thing, and came back with three bags full of supplies. They all got into the car and drove away, never seeing any of their faces.
“This has to be them,” Lydia said, “they obviously know what they’re doing.”
The Sheriff nodded, “Stiles was probably in the back of that car. It moved every once in a while. I told him-” his voice cracked, but he cleared his throat and kept going. “I told him if he’s ever taken, to yell and kick. Do whatever he could to get found. To make it harder for them.”
Derek’s chest clenched, his eyes still on the screen. “It was 2 AM, no one was around to hear him.”
Sheriff Stilinski closed his eyes for a moment, pushing his hand over his mouth. Derek could smell his sadness, his agony over this, but the man was strong. It only took him a moment to get himself together again.
He checked his watch, “this has them leaving town about three hours ago. I’m going to go get a map, see how far they could have gotten in that time. I can get the APB State wide, but that’s all I can do before we’re getting anyone else involved in this.”
The sheriff stood up and left Lydia and Derek, staring down at the computer, wishing they could do more.
--
Stiles didn’t have fingernails on his left hand anymore. He thought about that in a disjointed sort of way, as the man who had just been torturing him helped him drink a bottle of water.
“We don’t want you to die too quickly,” the man said, sounding very matter of fact about it. “The fun just started.”
Stiles spat the last mouthful in his face. He got a punch in the head for that - one that sent a burst of pain right into his eye.
He really needed to stop getting hit in the head. Priority number 2, protect the head. Number 1 was, obviously, find a way to get the fuck out of here.
As soon as the walls stopped spinning.
The second man, not-Adam, crouched down in front of him, a cigarette dangling between his fingers like he thought he was some cool looking Bond villain. “How long do you think it will take to get that spirit out of you, hmm? A week? A month?”
“How long will it take for you to go fuck yourself?” Not his best come back, and it came out a bit slurred, but it still got his point across.
The man put his cigarette out on Stiles arm.
--
They had a large map spread out on a standing bulletin board, a radius for how far the men could have gone circled out.
It got bigger every hour.
They also had pins in every forest that might have a remote cabin in them. The sheriff was calling the towns closest to every pin and asking if they’ve seen the black SUV with the license plate from the gas station. Thus far, nothing, all of them saying they would keep an eye out.
Stiles has officially been missing for 12 hours. Derek didn’t want to say it, but he knew there was a chance that he could be dead by now.
There was a chance that by tonight, they would be finding his body in the preserve, just like they’d found Laura.
He didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to picture it, but he couldn’t stop himself.
When Erica and Boyd showed up, bringing lunch in for them, Derek grabbed a sandwich and asked them to come to the gas station with him. To get out and… see if there was anything left behind. A scent, or a… a clue left by Stiles.
Just… something.
Anything.
--
Stiles had no fingernails on his left hand.
He had two broken fingers on his right.
He had a burn mark on his right forearm.
He had a swollen left eye.
He had a concussion, judging by the headache and dizziness. Though that could be from whatever they injected him with. It was probably from both.
They were giving him a break, because they wanted to rest a bit. Because torturing him was just such a hard day job. Or… night job. He didn’t know what time it was.
He didn’t know where the rescue team was either. It had been hours, hadn’t it? Surely… one of them should have come by now. His dad, Scott… Derek, even. Had no one noticed he was missing?
Stiles flopped his head back, wracking his brain for something, anything, to get him out of here. The tape had been replaced with rope, which was too tight for him to get out of. From what he could tell, he was in the middle of nowhere, so they would have him tied back in the chair as soon as he got out of it. There was no way he could fight these guys, at the best of times, let alone in the condition he was in. And he wouldn’t be able to outrun them either.
And… they weren’t asking him anything. There was no interrogation, or.. Attempt to get him on their side. They just wanted to hurt him. To hurt Scott by hurting him.
They didn’t even let him talk most of the time, his mouth even right now was covered in tape.
If sarcasm was his only defense, how the fuck was he supposed to get out of here?
--
The gas station told them one important thing - these were definitely hunters. Even hours later, the stench of wolfsbane is strong. Derek and his betas followed the scent of it for nearly two miles before it trailed off, but at least they knew what direction to look in now.
It was fucking something .
When they got back to the station, Derek could tell there were two more people in the sheriff’s office before they went in. He paused at the door when he saw it was Isaac and Scott. They were both standing at the side of the sheriff’s desk, looking uncomfortable.
Derek didn’t blame them. He would be uncomfortable too, if he was at the receiving end of a shouting Sheriff Stilinski.
“Do you know why I always said I trusted you, over Stiles? Do you understand why I thought you were the trustworthy one, Scott?” Sheriff Stilinski snarled. It sounded like this was the end of a very long fight. Derek glanced around to see Lydia looking half amused, half bored at the sight of this.
Derek wondered how long this had been going on.
“Because I- I’m not the one that lies all the time?” Scott finally answered, sounding unsure.
“It’s because you told me things. You told me when Stiles broke his arm when he was eleven and didn’t want me to know about it. You told me when Stiles was being bullied and didn’t want me to worry about it. But now, when Stiles is in the most danger, you didn’t tell me? Why? What were you thinking?”
“I-” Scott looked pale, “I- he didn’t want you involved. He didn’t want you to worry.”
“He never wants to worry me! I thought you got that, kid! I’m his only family left, he never wants to put anything on me. And I don’t want to put anything on him. But I’m his father, and I have to look after him, so yes ! I’m mad that you let him stew in this without telling me! I’m mad that my kid is out there, going through god knows what, because you-” the sheriff cut himself off, running a hand over his mouth. “You’re just a kid, you’re both just kids. You should have told me about this.”
The man turned away, and Scott clearly didn’t know what to do with this. Derek stepped forward.
“Are you here to help?”
“I-” Scott turned to him, hesitant, “Allison’s missing too.”
Derek lifted a brow. Erica laughed, it was not a happy sound. Sheriff Stilinski didn’t turn around, and that was enough for Derek.
“Get out.” He said, crossing his arms.
“I mean - what if they’re together? What if.. Maybe she’ll help us.” Scott said.
Boyd rolled his eyes, “I doubt that.” Erica nodded in agreement.
“Scott, if you aren’t here to help. Then leave.” Derek gestured to the door. “Everyone here is focused on rescuing Stiles. That’s it.”
Scott looked between Derek and the sheriff before his shoulders sagged and he left the room. Isaac didn’t move to follow him, and Scott didn’t wait for him.
Erica, Boyd and Isaac share an awkward look, before shifting and all looking somewhere else.
Derek sighed, “why don’t the three of you go get us some more dinner?” He handed them a few twenties, and shook his head when they all jumped at the task.
Teenagers.
The sheriff excused himself to the bathroom as soon as they left, but Derek could smell the scent of his tears already. He gave the man his privacy, moving to sit by Lydia.
“What was that?”
Lydia flipped a hand, her lips pursed, “Scott came in here on his high horse, telling Sheriff Stilinski not to trust you, but it didn’t get very far before the sheriff was asking Scott what he would rather he do instead to get his son back, and Scott didn’t have an answer for that… it snowballed from there.”
Derek looked away, he was kind of sorry he asked.
It took a few minutes, but the sheriff came back put together like always. Derek came up to put his hand on his shoulder, though, because they all needed support in this.
“We’re going to find him. We know its hunters, I could smell them at the gas station. I know they went this way,” Derek picked up a marker and drew an arrow on the map, pointing in the direction the hunters had been going. “We’ll find him.”
“I fucking hope so.”
--
Gerard was back, looking smug as ever. Stiles didn’t know how much time had passed, but sunlight streamed in when Gerard opened and closed the door, so… more time than he thought.
“How’s our friend?” He asked, all smarmy and gross.
“Peachy.” Stiles replied.
Gerard laughed.
“Why are you doing this?” Stiles asked, because really, what else did he have to lose. “What do you want from me?”
Gerard shrugged, “I told you, I want Scott to learn a lesson. He tried to have me killed.”
“Message sent, dude, I think he’ll get the point,” Stiles pointedly looked down at himself. The bloody parts of him made him feel sick. “You can let me go now.”
“No,” Gerard said, “Scott can either come here to find your body, or he’ll find your body abandoned in the preserve. Only that will teach him what dealing with a hunter truly means.”
Stiles felt cold dread drip down his back. He thought this was like, pay back, he didn’t think they would- they would actually …
“But- I’m human.” Gerard shrugged, like that made no difference to him. “You can’t- my dad’s the sheriff, he’s going to be looking for me! You can’t just-”
“Yes, it’s a shame your father will be losing his only son, but he would thank me if he knew what you had become. Fraternizing with werewolves. It’s disgusting.”
Gerard was heading to the door again, Stiles strained against the ropes. “Wait, please, my dad doesn’t have anyone else-”
“Daman, would you?” Gerard spoke to someone behind him, like Stiles begging meant nothing.
Something hit the back of his shoulder, and then Stiles was seizing, his entire body rigid and blood soaked his mouth.
He only distantly aware of the light coming in and leaving again as Gerard stepped out the door.
--
Their map was dotted with possibilities, but no one had seen the car since the gas station at 2 AM. Even with the new information that the hunters had gone north didn’t narrow it down very much.
It also wasn’t a guarantee that they had stayed heading north. It was possible they started that way, and then turned south somewhere else, just to throw them off. Who the fuck knew at this point, these people were insane.
The rest of the station were setting up teams to search through the preserve, but they knew Stiles wasn’t in there. They knew Stiles was lost somewhere, in a forest they couldn’t pin down.
The deputies probably thought the sheriff was in here, losing his mind an hour at a time. Derek was grateful that thus far no one was questioning why he had a Hale and a group of teenagers in with him. Maybe they thought they were his support system, friends of Stiles or something.
Maybe they thought they were humoring his bizarre theories that Stiles had been kidnapped by an old man and taken a few towns over.
It didn’t matter, at this point, all that mattered was they left the sheriff and the rest of them alone.
“Gerard only owns one piece of property in his name, and it’s in Texas.” John said, a hand over his chin. “If there’s a cabin nearby, it’s not his.”
“Do we know where the cabin is, other than nearby?” Isaac asked nervously. Everyone shook their head.
The sheriff sighed, and then he stood up.
“Where are you going?” Derek asked.
“I’m going where I should have gone hours ago.” The man said, pulling his jacket on. “To talk to Chris Argent, and find out what the hell these hunters really do.”
--
There was drool and blood on his chest when Stiles woke up… or, regained consciousness. His head was pounding, and his fingers hurt from clenching them after they’d already been… after they’d already…
Laughter hit his ears and Stiles blinked, frowning. He lifted his head with difficulty but yeah, the two hunters were laughing.
At him.
“Aw man, I wish we had recorded that. It was hilarious,” Adam said.
“I know, I know, he was so-” the man closed his eyes and jerked, pretending to be electrocuted.
This was… this was funny to them.
Stiles was going to die. If - if his dad, or one of the wolves… if he didn’t think of something…
He was going to die here if no one came to rescue him. Because hunters were all fucking psychopaths.
He sucked in a breath, and squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t know why he hadn’t realized… why he hadn’t thought… he supposed being human had been a big part. And a teenager. But they’d already gotten away with taking him, taking him and not being caught doing it. Who knew how long it had been?
Who knew if they would even find his body.
“Oh jesus, look,” one of them men stepped up and took an exaggerated breath. “He pissed himself!”
Stiles turned away, his face hot with shame.
“Don’t worry, little buddy,” the other said, his voice still full of laughter, “we got you.”
And then something was sliding against the floor, and the sound of a hose turning on was all the warning he got before a blast of cold water hit him in the chest.
--
Chris Argent sighed at the sight of the sheriff and a pack of wolves at his door, but he let them in without hesitation anyway. Derek only paused a moment when he caught a familiar scent.
Of course Scott would come here, if he was looking for Allison.
“I’m sorry he took your kid, Sheriff Stilisnki, but as I’ve been telling Scott, I can’t help you. I don’t know anything.” Chris said, crossing his arms.
“You don’t know anything, or you don’t want to tell us anything?” Lydia asked, crossing her arms back at him.
Chris shook his head, “I don’t know anything. Gerard doesn’t trust me, he didn’t tell me anything. Believe me, if I had known, I would have put a stop to this. I don’t hurt kids.”
“Sorry if we don’t believe you,” the sheriff said, hands in his pockets. He paused in the doorway to the living room, eyeing Scott for a minute before he turned back to the hunter. Derek followed his lead.
Scott, and the whirlpool of betrayal and hurt that he brought with him, could be dealt with later. They needed to find Stiles.
They were running out of time...if they hadn’t run out already.
“Look,” Lydia said, “we know he’s taken Stiles to get back at Scott, and doesn’t plan on keeping him alive very long, so we are really- we don’t have time to waste on your man pain or whatever the fuck this is.”
Chris took a step back when Lydia pointed a finger at him.
“Tell us anything you know about- about where he takes wolves after a hunt, or what hunters he would trust with this information, or what cabin is in the area, the one he would have taken Stiles to. Anything ! Give us anything!”
“Cabin?” Chris frowned, looked to the sheriff.
“Lydia found that, and it fits. If they’re-” he cleared his throat, “if they want to leave his body around here, they would need a place close by. It’s not in Beacon Hills, but it’s close. There’s nothing under the Argent name anywhere near here though.”
“No, but there is - my wife’s family had land a few towns over. It’s even more remote than the preserve here.”
“Great, give us the address.”
Chris swallowed, “it might take me while -”
“Just tell us where it is, we’ll find it ourselves,” the sheriff snapped.
Chris raised his hands, but he did move to grab paper, writing down directions, and the town closest to the cabin.
“That town’s on the map,” Lydia said, “red pin number 5.”
Good. They had been heading in the right direction after all.
“I’ll text you the actual address and how to get there as soon as I find it.”
“Good, thank you,” the sheriff said, already halfway out the door. They practically ran to get back to the cars.
Scott followed them out.
He waited until the sheriff was in the car with Lydia and Isaac, driving off, before he approached Derek’s window. Derek only gave him the chance because he didn’t want the sheriff to have to deal with this.
“Can I come?” Scott asked.
Derek glared at him, “do whatever you want. But don’t get in the way.”
Scott nodded, turning towards his bike. Derek didn’t wait for him before he drove off.
--
Stiles was dripping wet. They had shoved more pills in his mouth, and injected him again. Stiles didn’t know if that meant it had been 6 hours, or 12, or 24… or if they just did it because they felt like it.
He was cold and shivering, and not really listening when one of them knelt in front of him, a bat in his hands.
“We’ve heard some stories about you, you know. The boy who runs with wolves with nothing but his snark and his baseball bat. Funny, you haven’t had that much snark with us.”
Stiles wanted to tell him to stuff snark up his ass, but his mouth was taped shut, and they all knew it.
He looked away. That was all he could do.
He looked back again when the other one started to untie his leg.
He squirmed, but his muscles were stiff and his mind sluggish. He could tell he was barely making a difference.
“How are you going to run with wolves now, boy, with a broken leg?” The man asked, raising the bat.
Stiles really started to fight now. He managed to kick the man enough that he let go, and the bat swung through the air.
That did nothing but earn him a hit in the face with the butt of the bat.
And then his leg was being held, and the bat was being swung, and Stiles was screaming and screaming and screaming.
Until they swung again, and everything went black.
--
The drive took four hours. Derek spent the whole time hoping there was something left of Stiles to find by the time they get there.
He had the betas call their families on the way, so everyone knew Erica and Boyd were still safe and around. He also told them to call Peter, to give him an update. He was not all that surprised when Peter said he would meet them there.
They were nearing the 24 hour mark. That’s when people said it was time to start losing hope, right? If you don’t find them in the first 24 hours, they’re probably dead.
He really fucking hoped Stiles wasn’t dead.
--
When Stiles opened his eyes, he was staring at the ceiling. There was blood dripping into one eye, and the other wouldn’t open at all.
His body hurt.
His chest felt like it was on fire.
He didn’t really want to do this right now. He just wanted to leave this place. He just wanted - he just wants to leave- so he closed his eyes, and let out a breath -
And he left.